


The Twenty-Third Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Series: The Senad Sentinel Tidbits Files by Many and Varied [23]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Twenty-Third Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

## The Twenty-Third Sentinel Tidbits File

by Many and Varied

Author's disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, these tidbits aren't mine.  
Anyone who sues over this stuff, needs their head examined

Pairing: J/B - mostly!  
Rating: The whole range 

* * *

Tidbit #1 

ObSenad: 

"You know, Jim, it really is amazing how the Internet is changing the English language." 

Detective Ellison just grunted, acknowledging that his partner had spoken without actually taking his attention away from his paperwork. 

"I mean, it's almost as big as the Gutenberg Press, with the way it's re-popularizing the written word as a fast and easy method of communication. In fact, modern technology is having a massive impact on linguistic evolution all over the world. Think about it -- so much is being done in English today that a lot of countries are getting scared of losing their national languages altogether because of the influx of American words. You've got people from all over the world communicating in English over the 'net because it's not only the common language, it's one of the _few_ whose entire character set is even supported... Jim, are you listening to me?" 

"Uh-huh," Jim said absently. 

"And then there are those of us who are throwbacks to pre-civilized breeds of man who don't have to worry about these things because they can just knock potential mates over the head and drag them home." 

Jim rolled his eyes and looked up. "You've got the hair for it," he pointed out. 

"Not funny, man," Blair said, hand rising protectively to his curls. 

"Hey, wait a sec, I wasn't talking about _me_." 

"No, you followed me home on your own." 

"But I'm not a potential--, a potential m--, your m--" 

Jim grinned as Blair fell silent, his mouth hanging open. "Witness the victory of the caveman over the smooth talker. Here, Darwin, log off your email and share the earth-shaking miracle of the printed word with the department's paperwork, will you? Thanks." And he went back to work. 

(the end) 

\--cmshaw 

* * *

Tidbit #2 

Jim was tired but satisfied. They'd cracked the Henderson case and the perp was in custody. He was glad Blair hadn't been there for the bust. The man had been armed and Jim had had to use his Sentinel sight to shoot the gun out of his hand like someone in a spaghetti western. Come to think of it, Blair would've enjoyed that; he was always so gratifyingly enthusiastic whenever Jim utilized his special skills. 

He wondered if a little bragging might be in order. Just to see those grey-blue eyes light up in that endearing way they had, of course. Jim would never acknowledge that even a Sentinel required a little stroking once in a while. 

For a change, Blair wasn't deep into grading papers or doing research when Jim let himself into the loft, pitching his keys into the basket. In fact, Jim didn't see him anywhere, but he could smell something delicious cooking over the stove (ostrich chili again) and by dialing up his senses a notch, he could hear his Guide's steady breaths and the sound of turning pages from upstairs. 

He was up in _their_ room. Even after six months, Jim felt the same sense of wonder about that. Who'd have guessed, three years ago, that the hyperactive, motor-mouthed, smart-ass, over-educated, condescending grad student he'd just met (and slammed into a wall), could come to be the other half of his soul? Or that it would take nearly losing him to that psychotic _other_ sentinel to make him realize it? 

Jim shuddered, just thinking about it. Blair had bounced back from that ordeal far more rapidly than his traumatized Sentinel, who'd kept him wrapped in cotton wool until Blair rebelled against his coddling. Even now, the urge to protect him from all danger (preferably tucked away in the loft, permanently naked  & primed for action) was nearly overwhelming. It was obvious that Blair hadn't heard him come in, or he'd be hurtling down the stairs into Jim's arms by now. What _was_ he doing up there, that had him so engrossed? 

Panther-silent, Jim stalked his Guide. 

Fully clothed, Blair lay on his stomach on _their_ bed, chin propped on his hands and his bare feet waving gently in the air. 

He was reading something spiral-bound and Jim's eyes boggled when he caught sight of the full-page illustration. He must have made some sound, because Blair jumped, twisting around toward him, his sweet face the very picture of guilt. He made an abortive effort to stuff his reading material under the pillow, then stopped himself. 

"Too late, Chief," Jim said, still staring in fascinated horror at two very familiar figures engaged in a very familiar activity he'd never have suspected of them. "What _is_ that?" 

"Um, Jim, oh, man," Blair gulped. "It's like, you know, a fanzine? When the fans get together and write their own stories based on a TV show?" Jim was starting to feel a very familiar warmth radiating out from his groin. What those two were doing looked _hot_. But he said sternly, "I know who they are. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but we've _never_ seen Skinner and Mulder behaving like _that_ on the show." 

"But that's the whole _point_ of fanfiction, Jim," said Blair, his eyes lighting up the zeal of the fanatic. "To write about stuff the networks would _never_ allow us to see on prime time. To explore all the undercurrents, all the UST between the characters, and let them have some fun for a change. Don't tell me you've never wondered why Skinner is always sticking his neck out for Mulder on the show!" 

Jim replied, "I thought he might be interested in Scully," wondering how he could get his Guide out of all those layers of clothing. That illustration was giving him all sorts of wicked little ideas. 

"Scully!" Blair pooh-poohed, bouncing up  & down on the bed until the springs creaked. "He's never wrestled with _Scully_ and pinned _her_ down on the floor!" 

The Sentinel pounced. Blair let out a startled yelp as his garments started flying off his body at something close to light-speed. Soon, Jim held a very naked Blair pinned down on _their_ bed. "Like this?" he purred, licking Blair's neck and then rimming one ear enticingly before his tongue darted deep in the way he knew pushed Blair to the edge. 

His Guide wriggled beneath him, his weeping erection pressed against Jim's still-clad stomach. " _Exactly_ like this," Blair panted. "Only with  <pant, pant> fewer clothes between them." 

The clothes vanished. "And you read all this in that fanzine," purred the Sentinel, who was putting some of his wicked little ideas into practice with his talented tongue and fingers. 

"Ummm, yes," Blair managed. "Fanzine writers <pant, pant> can get <moan> very, um, creative - " 

"You'll have to read this fanzine aloud to me, Chief. Later..." 

Brenna 

* * *

Tidbit #3 

"Stupid e-mail program!" 

Jim turned to look over at the dining room table where Blair was huddled over his laptop. "Problems again?" 

Blair sighed and joined his lover on the couch. "What else? I'm never going to volunteer to test a beta-version of an e-mail program again." 

The detective wrapped his arm around the younger man and pulled him close, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "I told you I'd give you the money for a decent e-mail program instead of you using those web-based ones. You wouldn't be having all these problems if you were using something like Eudora Pro." 

"I know," Blair said dejectedly. "But you're always buying me stuff. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you." 

"Chief, maybe I _like_ buying things for you. After all, when you're happy, I'm happy." 

Blair chuckled and looked up at the other man. "You mean when I'm happy, we have sex more often. I've got your number, James Ellison." Sandburg pounced suddenly, pushing his lover down on the sofa, straddling him, and kissing him several times. "And I wouldn't have you any other way." 

"Glad to hear it, Chief. I... ohhhhh... ahhhh... yeah, right there, babe." 

"Jim... I'm _very_ happy." 

Laura 

* * *

Tidbit #4 

ObSenad: 

"Oh man! Why are you watching that show? It stinks." 

"It's not that bad, Chief," Jim defended mildly. "There's just one thing that gets me. It's dramatic, right? I mean, it's meant to be serious." 

"That's debatable." 

"No really. But my point is, it has all these over-sexed characters. They're constantly having meaningless or excessively meaningful encounters. But _this_ guy, he never gets laid." 

"No. Well, he's gay, Jim." 

"So?" Jim looked confused. 

"So he might get laid, but we don't get to hear about it. And we _certainly_ don't get to see it. You want men kissing, you imagine it." 

Jim casually flipped off the TV. "I'd much rather _do_ it." 

"Yeah, well, that's a possibility too." And he moved to demonstrate it. 

Fortuita 

* * *

Tidbit #5 

ObSenad 

"Hey, Chief." 

"Not now, Jim, I'm working." 

"Fine.  <grumble>" 

"<sigh> OK, hon, I'm sorry. What do you need?" 

"My friend online needs a wav. Can you help me?" 

"Jim, man! I've shown you how to use the media recorder a million times! You STILL don't get it?" 

"Uhhhhh. Yeah, I get it fine, Chief. I mean I actually need YOU to make the wav." 

"OK, what kind of wav. Want me to say hello? Or good-bye?" 

"Nope." 

"Well, what then?" 

"Laughter." 

"Huh?" 

"Laughter. Your laughter." 

"Ah. OK. Ha ha ha ha ha. Ha. How's that?" 

"Lame." 

"SorRY." 

"Sounded fake." 

"Well, it was. What do you want me to do?" 

"I got an idea." 

"Well good, whatever you....Jim? Jim...what are doing? Put the feather duster down, Jim, and nobody gets hur..HEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEE!!!!!!" 

MR 

* * *

Tidbit #6 

Jim put the last of the dinner dishes away, shook out the towel and hung it over the drainer before settling down on the sofa and grabbing the TV remote. He turned on the set and switched to ESPN just as the World Surfing Championships were about to begin. 

"Damn! I know that one." 

Settled back, ready to enjoy a quiet evening, Jim was surprised by Blair's outcry. "Sandburg... Everything okay?" 

"Oh... sorry, Jim. It's nothing." 

Ellison was able to enjoy a few moments of blissful quiet before a loud 'thwak' from the direction of the dining room nearly made him jump off the couch. 

"Shit, shit, shit... What _is_ the name of that song?" Blair hit the table again in frustration. 

"Sandburg, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were reading your Anthropology newsgroup." The detective turned off the TV, moved behind his roommate and read the info displayed on Blair's laptop. "The Ultimate 80's Music Quiz?" 

"Ummm, yeah... See I read the newsgroup on Deja News and they have advertising all over the place, and when I spotted the one for the music quiz, well... I couldn't resist. But it's hard." 

Jim bent closer and nuzzled Blair's neck. "But I thought you liked it hard, Chief." 

"I like _you_ hard, Jim. Oh, man, that is _so_ distracting. C'mon, babe, stop." 

Ellison reluctantly backed away and pulled up a chair next to his lover. "Maybe we could work on it together. I know a _few_ songs from the 80's." He chuckled lightly. "What do we have to do?" 

"Okay... There are 221 questions and each question is a line from a song. You just have to identify the song. But it's not as easy as it sounds. Here's the first one: Suckin' on chili dogs outside the Tastee-Freez." 

"That's easy, Chief. It's Jack and Diane by John Cougar Mellencamp." 

"Yeah, that was an easy one. How about this: Can't get food for the king." Jim thought for a minute, then shook his head. "Beats the hell out of me." 

"See what I mean? You still want to do this with me?" 

Jim pulled the chair a little to closer to Blair and draped an arm over the younger man's shoulder. "You bet, love. What's the next one?" 

* * *

If *you'd* like to take the Ultimate 80's Music Quiz, it can be found at: [http://www.dejanews.com/[ST_chan=ent]/channels/mus/mus_pc1.shtml](http://www.dejanews.com/%5BST_chan=ent%5D/channels/mus/mus_pc1.shtml)

Laura 

* * *

Tidbit #7 

ObSenad: 

"Damnit!" Blair exclaimed, slamming the phone down into its cradle. 

Jim lifted his head from reading the sports section of the paper. "What's wrong, babe?" 

Gesturing wildly, Blair began roaming around the loft, saying, "Oh, man, it's that phone company down in Chinook. They're saying that the phone service is turned on at the cabin and I can't make them understand that there's no box on the pole to run the phone line to so we're paying for service that isn't really there! And! They want me to explain to them how, if there's no box, their records show that there's been service at that address before! How the hell should I know? It's their records, not mine!" 

Jim chuckled softly at his rampaging lover. He put the paper down and opened his arms wide. "Blair?" 

"What?" Was the distracted reply from the man pacing around the kitchen. 

"C'mere." 

Blair looked over to the couch to see Jim's open invitation. He bounded over the back and landed in the welcoming embrace, snuggling his head down into Jim's neck. 

"Better?" Jim asked, holding his lover close, enjoying the feel of his body next to his own. 

"Much," Blair sighed. "But this isn't getting us phone service." 

Placing a kiss on Blair's head, Jim said, "Does it really matter, babe? We got the cabin to escape from the world, not to drag it with us. You can do without your newsgroups and mailing lists for a week or two at a time, can't you?" 

Blair shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I guess I can," he admitted slowly. "I mean, if I set the lists to nomail then the mailbox won't get full and start bouncing my mail. And we've always got our cells if any emergency comes up that Simon needs your help on." 

"Needs  our help on you mean, love," Jim corrected him. 

Blair pulled back and beamed at his Sentinel. "Yeah, us ." He nestled back down, wrapping his arms around Jim. "So, whatcha want to do tonight?" 

"Oh, I don't know. This is nice." 

"Yeah," Blair sighed. "It is." 

* * *

Yes, I hate the phone service in Chinook, Washington. Wonderful area to part-time live, but don't ever expect to get phone service there. 

MoonPuppy 

* * *

Tidbit #8 

Obsenad: 

"Aaaargh!" 

"Chief, aren't you supposed to be in bed? How're you going to be awake to teach your nine o'clock if you stay up all hours surfing the net?" 

"Soon, Jim. I just gotta write an obsenad." 

"Obsenad?" 

"Well, it seems that I got two related lists confused when I hit reply." 

"Lists?" 

"Yeah, you know the mailing lists I belong to about that show about the 2 guys? " 

"Oh yeah, the lists..." 

"Well one is for fanfic authors to post stories and the other is for comment." 

"Well, Chief, that sounds simple enough..." 

"Yeah, usually it is, but it's late and sometimes people do these stories called drabbles or they do parodies or tidbits on the commentary list, and I thought that's what I was commenting on and then later the listmom caught me after I hit reply on the fanfic list and I could just die of embarrassment, so now I have to do penance by writing an obsenad." 

"Obsenad?" 

"Yeah, I posted an apology, which is technically off-topic for either list. So now I have to write an obsenad." 

"Obsenad?" 

"Yeah, Jim. It's a short piece about the guys on the show so that we can pretend to be on topic. It's short for "obligatory sen adult something or other," but I think it's a play on the word "obscene" or something." 

"You have to write something obscene about those 2 guys?" 

"Well, it's that kind of list, guy -- hey, stop making that face! There is actually a lot of evidence that they could, y'know be ... well, involved, y'know" 

"If you say so, Sandburg, but I can't say as _I_ see it." 

"Are you kidding!? Haven't you been watching? They touch all the time and stand way closer than 2 guys in our culture _ever_ stand and the big one is always calling the little one all these nicknames and... and... and..." 

"Sounds like projection to me, Sapir." 

"What do you mean "projection"? And how did you know about Sapir?" 

"You're not the only one who's been to college, my little keyboard-tickler... Now get up here and get in bed -- I can't wait all night!" 

\--finis-- 

\--Marmoset 

* * *

Tidbit #9 

Obsenad: 

Jim looked up from the game he was watching as he heard muted chuckling coming from the direction of his partner. 

"What's up, Chief?" 

"Oh, not much. It's just one of the people on one of my lists is complaining about the weather. Apparently she moved out west after hearing all her life about how nice the weather is out there. But now the rest of the continent is in a heat wave, while Vancouver is suffering from unusually cold and wet weather. She's just slightly miffed." 

"So... Want to do something to contribute to the heating up of the west?" 

"Do I!" 

Kelly 

* * *

Tidbit #10 

ObSenad: 

"Chief?" 

"Yeah, Jim?" 

"What are we doing in the toy store?" 

"Well, Jim, I was told that they carried the new Mulder and Scully action figures, so ..." 

"Mulder and Scully action figures?" 

"Yeah, Jim. Except we have to watch out because there are 2 types -- the real ones and the Barbie and Ken ones." 

"Barbie and Ken?" 

"Yeah, it's disgusting. They took the basic Barbie shape and put red hair on it and a trench coat and called it Scully. But we all know that Scully is almost a foot shorter than Mulder and does not look at all like Barbie -- thank god." 

"But what difference does it make -- a doll's a doll -- right?" 

"Not dolls, Jim, _action figures_ " 

"Right." 

"No, Jim, really. Like, suppose they did action figures based on that show you watch every Wednesday night ... you know the one with the 2 guys? How would you like it if the little guy, the one you like so much, was ... oh I don't know ... " 

"Turned into Barbie, Chief?" 

"Well, yeah, essentially. I mean, the little guy has long hair and is shorter than the bigger guy and has these big, gorgeous eyes and those full lips and..." 

"Gettin' a bit off on a tangent, Sandburg?" 

"Oh, yeah, sorry... Like I was saying, he has long hair and ... stop lookin' at me like that! ... and the toy manufacturer might decide that, hey, we could save us some money on the mold and just adapt a Barbie for that guy... They could do it... just flatten the boobs and the feet so he didn't have permanent high-heel-shoe shaped feet... But you'd have this... vapid-looking, thin-faced, wasp-waisted all-legged, TALL girlie guy... " 

Jim grimaced. 

"Yeah, Jim, just disgusting! I mean I don't have anything against girls but real _women_ don't even look like Barbie, let alone that...that..." 

"Real man?" 

"Well, yeah. I mean, he may be in touch with his feminine side, but that doesn't make him..." 

"A Barbie." 

"Right. And the other guy is definitely no Ken... He's much more real, more... " Blair lost the power of speech in contemplation of his... thoughts. 

"More what, Chief?" 

"More... like you, Big Guy." 

"So... I'm not a Ken?" 

"Definitely not, Big Guy! For one thing, have you ever seen what they did to him? Under his jeans?" 

"What?" 

"You don't want to know..." 

\--finis-- 

\--Marmoset 

* * *

Tidbit #11 

"Sheeee-it." 

"What now?" Huge sigh. 

"Wrote a letter to mom and thanked her for being a good egg about some stuff I posted to the wrong list....." 

"Damn, Chief, how many lists do you belong to?" 

"Um, well, there are two Archeology lists, a couple of slash lists, one of them about this cop duo who really have the hots for each other, see, and they can't show it on TV but when the cameras are off they are making out like drunken teenagers...." 

Stares down into deep blue eyes of his one true love and grins.... 

"So, why are you swearing at the laptop?" 

"Well, I am soOOOooOOOoo embarrassed..... you see," deep blush flushing sweet face becomingly, "I sent the thank you letter to the list..." 

"And?" Puzzlement settles on classic features. 

"I sent this really hot story to my mom." 

"Hot story?" 

"Yeah. I wanted to try writing slash too. These two cops, they remind me of someone you see....." 

Stares deeply into bright blue eyes of his lover. 

"Sheeee-it!" 

Helmboy 

* * *

Tidbit #12 

Due to the dunce quotient being inordinately high at my house I am required to do penance.... here we go.... 

ObSenad: 

"So, Bob, what do you think of the little guy? Is he a babe or what?" 

"If you like the type. I personally don't. Although I prefer him to that big dude..." 

"Why?" 

"He's covert ops..." 

"So..." 

"He'd shoot ya, skin ya and eat ya. No qualms. Uncle Sam trains 'em that way...." 

"Sheeee-it, you're kidding aren't you?" 

"Nope. He did that to Uncle Theodore once. Mama told me." 

"That's just a boogie-man story...." 

"Nope....I swear on my Uncle Theodore's grave, it's true." 

"Weeeeeellllllll then, maybe it's time to do some covert ops of our _own_!" 

They scurried across the room and over to the computer, stepping in front of it and peering at the screen. 

"What's on it?" 

"That Sentinel slash list... the story one." 

"Cool, let's send a message to the story list. It will piss everyone off and they will get yelled at." 

"Oh, Bob, you rock. So, how do we do this?" 

"Jeez, Francine, don't you know anything? You click the mouse." 

For a long moment there was silence. Then a punch resounded and Bob fell off the table. Francine looked over the edge, peering at Bob lying in a pile of broken bones on the floor. 

"Um, Bobby, are you OK?" 

"SHeeeee-it, Francine, why did you hit me?" 

"You said I had to clip the mouse." Hurt look on little mouse face. 

"I said _CLICK_ the mouse, damnit... the one by the computer." 

Long pause. "Oh. Sorry...." 

* * *

A little long but conveyed it all.......... :o)))))))) **XOXOXOX,**

Helmboy 

* * *

Tidbit #13 

Scat is a variation of jazz music singing that the late, great Louis Armstrong practiced. I'm sure others have done it in the past and still do it now, but his is the only name I remember. It's kinda of a sing-song nonsensical lyrics form in accompaniment to the music. 

ObSenad: 

A doop bop a doowap a boopbop a doop 

Halfway up the stairs, Jim dropped the take-out bag, ignoring the spreading stains and pungent odors of crab rangoon and moo shu pork. Pulling his gun with one hand, cursing the grease on his fingers from the egg roll he'd snitched on the way in the door, he scrabbled wildly at it before seating it firmly in his palm. Wasn't going to lose the damned thing this time! Head down, Blessed Protector genes in full attack mode, he lowered his head and charged into the apartment, intent on protecting his Guide from whatever was making that gawdawful caterwauling racket ... 

Sandburg sat cross-legged, staring at the apparition who'd burst into the room, gun swinging crazily from one hand, feet sliding nearly out from under him, eyes nearly popping from his head as they scanned the room from side to side and top to bottom, traces of pork, bean sprouts, crab goo and wonton flakes streaking across his chest, head down, nostrils flaring as he attempted manfully not to sneeze or snort at the sandalwood incense filling the air. 

"Jim? Man? You okay?" 

"Who's shoving the cat down the garbage disposal tail first, Chief?" Ellison puffed out between gritted teeth. 

"Oh, that's my new CD -- Cleo Laine, man, she rocks!" 

Jim gradually got his breath under control, seeing Sandburg was in no threat of immediate dismemberment regardless of the noises squalling from the sound system that indicated otherwise, and shakily put his gun back into the holster. Resigning himself to going _back_ out in the heat _again_ to replace dinner, he muttered just loud enough for his partner to hear, "I don't know how you can listen to that shit." 

End OBSENAD about scat, the music. :} 

Bren 

* * *

End Sentinel Tidbits file #23.

 


End file.
